To Florence, on the just released Part 14:Spoiler (You: fine for now, but watch out that you don’t start Mary Sue-ing Saionji, yeah?Me: Oh, God no! Seinen Child!Saionji is definitely not intended as a self-insert. If the “sweet atmosphere” between T & S seem heavy-handed here, it is only for the purpose of highlighting the tragedy of what comes in Part 15.)

I don’t know which one is harder to write, (spoiler: the Anthy vs Keiko battle with Mikage car-racing in the background , or the underage assault scenes featuring Child!Touga/Utena/Saionji ); all I know is that I must properly fit both into Part 15 and get the super lengthy “Victims of Fate” Arc done with for good.

Cause only then can I get to the parts featuring my beloved Guidance Counselor in what I think will be her meatiest fanfic role ever

WARNING: Parts of this work contain depictions of transphobia, controversial shoujo fantasy trans situation that in no way reflects real life trans people, and misogynic magic attack leading to forced masculinization. This particular chapter also contains non-graphic depiction of child on child molestation, so be warned.

Part Fifteen: Victims of Fate V (BETA-ed by TheOnlyFlorence)

Time: 10 years post-revolutionPlace: Chida Mansion

“Why are you even here?”

Even though he knew that question was coming, the young man still hesitated to answer; preferring instead to act gullible. “Nanami-sama . . . ?” As he expected, sharp, shrewd-minded Nanami-sama did not buy it one bit.

“Everyone of us followed Himemiya into this because we got baited by what she offered,” stated the blonde, long nail tips scratching tensely against the cup of coffee he offered her just earlier on. “You may have some loyalty to the Kaorus, but that alone can’t get you running back to this nightmare.” Her piercing gaze drilled into him; he knew he had been effectively cornered. “How did she get you to come help, Tsuwabuki?”

Glancing away, the now tense, red-faced Tsuwabuki Mitsuru bit down on his lower lip; hard. The tone of the woman’s voice was every bit as scolding as he remembered it from a decade before; like he still was some mindless child that she, the elder, needed to keep in place by brute force.

“She told me you’d also be here.”

The bottom of Nanami-sama’s cup hit the coffee table in a sharp, daunting clang that sent an involuntary, childish jolt out of him.

“You stupid, immature brat!” She snarled on the last word, harshly punctuating it in preparation of the tirade to come. “You remember? Don’t you? The things they did to you at Ohtori . . . remember the Black Rose? Remember how they made you . . . Tsuwabuki, you got parents! Last I remember, you were also making friends from your own classes back before I had to flee Houou with Kyouichi and Onii . . . san.” Actually out of breath, she had to inhale deeply before going on. “You’re what now . . . a university student? Don’t you have finals coming up around this time? How can you just throw your life away to come back into the monster siblings’ sick games? And don’t act like you’re doing this for me – had I been that important to you back then, we’d never have drifted apart--”

“We drifted apart cause I was nine and couldn’t stop you from pushing me away!” snapped Tsuwabuki, slamming both hands against the coffee table, spilling the cup’s dark contents dark across its pale surface. Nanami-sama’s lips, full and girlish even as an adult, parted in genuine surprise at his reaction. The others in the room were glancing their way; he lowered his voice. “After you were gone, I tried carrying on like nothing had changed: helping Miki-sempai with his Student Council work, trying out some clubs I might’ve liked . . . but everything was . . . off. At first, I thought it was because I got spoiled, by those colorful days we’ve had back then: fighting a kangaroo with you one day, seeing you turn into a cow the next . . . but it was much more than that. Everything’s become so . . . colorless since you were away! Do you know how all the clubs I’ve tried made me feel displaced? The contrived, affected hypes that those kids my age all got themselves involved with to fit in with other kids . . . I’m not interested in any of that! Do you know . . .” his voice dropped a further notch, “ . . . do you know that I haven’t ever dated, not even once?”

“Tsuwabuki . . .” For some reason, Nanami-sama’s fair complexion now was flushing up. “Oh, you . . . you were just idolizing Onii-sam . . .san and trying to copy him! That wasn’t--”

“I kissed you.”

Stiff-necked, his voice was firm and unyielding to the point of surprising even himself. Small face now beet red, Nanami-sama was actually stammering immaturely in front of him.

“You . . . but you were--”

“The black rose magnified what was already there in the first place.” His voice was now barely above a whisper. “Did you think I could’ve pulled out your blades – both of them – if I didn’t feel something, if you didn’t also feel--”

The swift slap, while stinging, was far from unexpected. What truly surprised him, however, was the near-bashfulness he saw in the woman’s dark eyes.

“Enough already,” she said, her usual tough front since replaced by girlish awkwardness. Vaguely, he noticed Miki-sempai shooting a furtive gaze at Kozue-sempai, who missed it from where she was reading off the laptop together with Shinohara-san and Takatsuki-san, rapt. “Tsuwabuki, you . . .”

“For the longest time, I didn’t know what was wrong with me.” On a roll now, Tsuwabuki could only hurry on speaking, before he was to choke from losing steam. “There was a time when I was even stealing drugs off Kozue-sempai; Miki-sempai stopped me before I got myself addicted . . . but even that can’t fill my world back up. It’s like nothing can fill that strange void inside eating me alive! Ten years, all through junior high, senior high, and there’s been no growth, no life, no going forward for me; not since that time from when we were kids . . . not since you’ve been gone.”

“Tsuwabuki . . . ”

“Maybe you can only ever see me as a henchman, but I’m okay with that; I’d do anything just to be beside you again. Ten years, and I still haven’t found anyone else - you’re still the only one who can make me feel . . . alive.” There, he said it; the big reveal. On edge, Nanami-sama ran a hand through her blonde waves somewhat unnecessarily, obviously searching for things to say.

This time, it was Kozue-sempai; reddened face growing crimson, Nanami clucked her tongue.

“That’s . . .”

“Tokyo Big Egg--”

Thus Takatsuki-san’s soft murmur got violently cut off by Nanami-sama striding over to the ladies and grabbing onto their tabletop. Knowing that a colossal (and no doubt operation-derailing) catfight could ensue, Tsuwabuki quickly followed to intervene.

“That’s ‘Tokyo Big Egg Undergoes Extensive Restructuring for Idol Concert’!” Nanami-sama roared with the volume of an agitated lioness. “You people are reading entertainment headlines at a time like this?! Don’t you hav--” Just like that, the roaring stopped, as she appeared to be getting a better look at what was on the page. “That’s . . .”

Looking over her slim shoulder – only now did he realize how petite this woman with her large presence really was – Tsuwabuki saw on the screen an artful publicity still, one that featured an impossibly beautiful man breaking out of a large egg in a dramatic pose suggesting both rapture and agony.

The poster’s slogan read as follows:

Revolution SEEN Live – Smash Your World’s Shell

***

In front of her stood the penguin-flanked maidens, studying her even as she studied them.

“Himemiya . . . san?” asked ‘Ikebe’ Himari, tentatively. “Are you the one who invited us to come?”

“Tell us, why are there Kiga members here?” demanded Natsume Masako, viciously. “We ain’t going anywhere with you till you can explain that!”

“I’m here to help,” assured Himemiya Anthy, in the cultured voice she often used to placate the young and innocent. “I’ll give you all thorough explanations on everything that had happened to have caused your current disorientation. But first, we need to go somewhere more . . . sheltered.” She gestured at the opened side door of her pink van. “This is so we don’t get further interrupted by such troublesome . . . interruptions.”

A snort – sharp with hysteria – came from behind her.

“Troublesome . . . you were going to call me an insect,” snarled this one particular pawn of her brother’s, “you, the likes of you. I’ll have you know that I’m not one of those nobodies that you can just brush aside without effort!” Then came the wet, sticky sound of an egg getting squashed, revealing the occurrence of a non-explosion; from her shoulder, Chu-Chu let out a puzzled squeak as he checked his remote. “Hey, you! Oginome Ringo, is it? Is it really okay for you to go with this woman? She is, after all, the one who got your sister killed sixteen years ago!” The girls all were understandably stunned at hearing that, with their penguins now all having shifted into various theatrical poses of shock.

“Wha . . .”

Noting the youngsters’ reactions, the surprisingly daring pawn quickly rambled on. “If the late Kiga Leader Watase Sanetoshi could be called a magician, then Himemiya Anthy here was definitely Kiga’s witch! A witch who empowers herself by stealing the World’s Light, she’s only turned against Kiga now so she could rob its might to destroy the world her way! And . . .”

Anthy’s soft sighing – one she had purposely drawn out and lengthened – disrupted the pawn’s rambling irreparably; Chu-Chu sneezed loudly from where he perched on her shoulder.

“For someone you love, your feelings for other people become insignificant; you can deceive yourself as much as you need.

“For whom have you strayed off the normal life, and allied yourself with failed, curse-bound terrorists?

“Sonoda Keiko-san?”

Only now did she slowly turn around to cut at the Ohtori Alumna with her scrutinizing gaze. The random bully who once offered herself as henchwoman to Kiryuu Nanami for social status (and more) had grown into a stiff-featured woman thin of hair and figure. The woman might have been semi-attractive wearing a more relaxed expression; but in her current rage-seized state, she made for a repelling sight.

No matter, thought Anthy, ready to move on towards her next course of action. Then and now, this one is still nothing more than a low-level pawn in the scheme of things. Far more important things awaited her; she will not waste too much time on the insect.

“Sonoda Keiko . . .” Ringo’s voice came tremor-marred. “I remember her now! This woman is Seen’s manager! I’ve seen her name on entertainment news!”

Masako sounded equally surprised. “Why would an Idol’s manager be involved in something like this?”

For her part, Anthy merely kept her eyes on Keiko, watching as she grew less composed by the second.

“Akio-sama told me already.” There now was spittle smearing a corner of the woman’s thin lips. “You were there supervising when they bombed the train sixteen years ago! You were supposed to have taken Oginome Momoka alive, to seize her power for your cause.” Vaguely, Anthy noticed Ringo and Himari’s audible exhaling at what was revealed. “Instead, you got sidetracked at discovering Tenjou Utena, who possessed even greater potential than Oginome. And so, you simply let Watase Sanetoshi curse Oginome, all the while sinking your hooks into Tenjou, your new golden goose!”

“You must be important for him to tell you all that,” commented Anthy, keeping her benignly serene smile in place. “However, you seem to have forgotten to mention that I had also intervened during the confrontation: I was the one to have diluted Sanetoshi-kun’s attack against Momoka-chan, allowing for her to survive in spirit.”

Letting the girls mull over the cryptic statement, the Witch took a step up and towards Keiko, who trembled in apparent fear even as she seethed in rage.

“I-I’m not going to back down from someone like you!” The woman then moved a palm over her chest, where the heart is. “Not you . . .”

“Sonoda!” One nondescript Kiga member cried out with fright – one would think he might attempt movement had there not been an ‘egg bomb’ in front of him. “Akio-sama had given implicit orders that the swords are not to be used until Stage Three. To use it now--”

“Are you scared?” asked the woman, her own voice shaky. “Do you think you’d be spared after already having gone this far?” Her hand now started to glow. “No use fretting now: you all know what’s in your contract.” Fearful gasps could now be heard coming from all around her.

“Sonoda . . . you--”

“Discontented swords shining with human hatred . . . UNTO ME!”

In one sleek, dramatic gesture that made her narrow limbs resemble outstretched insect claws, the now light-engulfed Keiko pulled out a sword – one that Anthy immediately recognized not to be the woman’s soul sword. At its appearance, the entire group of Kiga Terrorists howled a combined scream, as their soul swords all shot out of their chests flying point first at the woman . . . before merging into her drawn blade with physics-defying smoothness. Soul-less, the terrorists’ emptied vessels all now crumbled amidst a vast expanse of bursting flames engulfing much of the rooftop, as the ‘egg bombs’ trapping them activated from their involuntary movements.

“Chu . . .” Letting out a forlorn whine, Chu-chu’s head drooped as he discarded the ‘egg bomb remote’ like the useless thing it had now become. The girls, for their part, appeared stunned into imbecility, with their penguins bouncing about trying to dodge the fiery sparks flying their way.

Anthy - fully understanding the workings behind the magic – merely watched and observed: she was trying to figure out the ‘why’ behind her brother’s peculiar decision in maneuvering this particular piece against her at this point in the game. No way would he – who knew her like she knew him – truly deem this to be powerful enough to defeat her and seize the Maidens of Fate.

Unless . . .

“This is all you’re good for anyway,” gasped Keiko. Darkened by smoke from the dying flames, the now sweat-drenched woman visibly struggled to hold onto the ‘combined’ sword, now shaking against her grip with the organic motion of a living thing. “Just vanish already. You!” She again addressed Anthy. “Can you beat this sword, Witch? It’s Akio-sama’s sword – the strongest, noblest sword in the world!”

“My brother has no sword to give you,” replied the Witch, even knowing her words will go unheeded by the now hate-filled, controlled puppet in front of her. “Sonoda-san, what you’ve just drawn from your vessel is one out of the Million, re-forged to be semi-controllable by the welder; and still its hatred remains. This explains your . . . emotional state at seeing me. I do wonder . . . just how well can a human maneuver a Hate Sword – especially one that now bears the combined might of a hundred newly slain?” She advanced one more step, noting as Keiko took one back. “Why don’t we find out? But first . . .” Catching her subtle signal, Mikage – now in vehicle form – had already self-driven forward to rapidly ‘swallow up’ the girls (plus penguins) into his confines. Speeding past the aquarium’s many ‘invisible’ visitors and employees – all oblivious to the fiery carnage in their spell-blinded, insubstantial states – he shot straight for the edge of the aquarium’s roof, ready to flee this magical barrier of her brother’s making--

*SKIDDDDD . . . CLANG!!!*

A number of her brother’s pawns – all in car-form – spouted seamlessly out from the charred floor; two of such vehicles – a red convertible with plate reading ‘INOUE’, and a dark racecar with plate reading ‘KAROU’ – were already slamming into Mikagemobile from either side, forcibly slowing him down as the rest of the many cars gave chase from behind.

Now that alarmed Anthy. This level of contortion over the area’s physics so far away from their . . . from his base at Ohtori, while not entirely impossible, was difficult. Back in ‘their day’, the siblings had contacted their share of young, impressionistic minds from all across the land (. . . haunting a church here, adding a coffin there; setting a stage here, telling a tale there . . . ), accomplishing it all via faulty power-transferring techniques that stressed their limited reserves every single time. However, the way her brother could now hide such a vast number of magic-fueled minions right here without her sensing anything . . . though whatever underhanded means, he had indeed grown strong in her absence; strong, like he had not been since Dios’ apocalyptic fall in ancient times.

Her plan of crushing him and seizing his power to help Utena – using the Ohtori Duelists as her champions - might be even harder than she thought it would be.

Utena . . .

“Don’t fucking ignore me, whore!” Keiko, powered up and crazed with hatred, now came charging at her wielding the Hate Sword – with multiple sharp blades poking out point first from all over her scarecrow-thin figure. “FACE ME!!”

Lips tensed into a flat line, Anthy straightened her back as she stood her ground in anticipation of the incoming attack.

***

“So . . . Sonoda Keiko really did use the sword to initiate Stage Three on her own . . . just as we thought she would. Oh, and she struck down some of Kiga’s members too, you say . . . I understand; keep me informed.” Putting down the car phone, Ohtori Akio then spoke directly to his current vehicle – one that had remained his favorite for years. “Just as we thought, my sister really did try to have Nemuro-kun transport the witchlings away. Your husband and Kaoru-san are leading the others in battle him as we speak, Hoshimi-chan.”

Mrs. Ohtori Hoshimi – currently in her red convertible form – ran smoothly onwards along what appeared to be a serpentine stretch of road situated against a vast, dark backdrop with no ends in sight.

//“Those old rust buckets won’t last against the Professor for very long,”// she said. //“And, with Chida Nee-san no doubt already on her way . . .”//

“It’s okay even if the scraps should fail,” assured Akio, eyes fixed on the dark road ahead, “the objective of this entire operation has nothing to do with capturing the Fateful Maidens to begin with.”

//“Oh? This is the first I’ve heard about this, Akio-san. Do tell me more--”//

“Twists coming up, Hoshimi-chan; slow down or crash.”

***

Time: 6 years pre-revolutionPlace: Outskirts of Kiryuu Estate

“You there . . .

“You two haven't seen a girl about your age around here, have you?

“There was a girl who lost her parents in an incident today.

“She disappeared when we weren't looking.

“You haven't seen her? I see. Thanks.

“She couldn't have been spirited away now . . . could she?”

***

“Touga . . . hey! Are we allowed to go in here? Hey . . . wait!”

Ignoring Kyouichi’s incessant babbling, Touga followed the ethereal, ominous Devil through the church’s gates and into its unlit interior; outside, from behind the closing gates, the drenched, black-suited adults searched on for the missing child.

In vain.

His getup a stretch of white and red against the surroundings’ darkness, the Devil – likely the one who spirited away the orphaned girl – now drew the boy (and his friend) right into the vast nave. Lifting a dark, powerful hand with three fingers raised, this entity then gestured up ahead, at the coffins now arrayed in front of the altar.

“It was three coffins, all right,” muttered Touga, voice flat with dread.

“What do you mean?” asked Kyouichi, understandably surprised.

“Oh,” the sharper boy quickly thought up an excuse to use (it won’t do to reveal the Devil’s presence). “I could see them through a crack in the doors back there . . .” And he quieted down at what he just noticed.

A lock of hair - or rather, it’s tapered tailend - could be seen caught between a coffin’s closed lid, it’s texture revealed to be a lustrous pink under the flashs of lightning briefly illuminating the nave.

Pink.

Hair.

Before he knew it, Touga had already gotten up to the coffin, much the other boy’s alarm.

Lid pushed aside, the opened coffin revealed to him who he thought would be in it.

“Don't open it.” The radiant, winsome girl – the very one he had been stalking for two years straight – now lay dim and broken within the narrow confines. Her usual extravagant wardrobe now was replaced by some drab black dress draping stiffly upon the cut roses filling the box. “Please, don't open it.”

This girl from her better world, whom he could only ever watch from afar in the past, now had plummeted right down and into his world.

‘We finally meet.’

Vaguely, he heard some irrelevant pondering from Kyouichi, something about how the girl was ‘hiding in a place like this’; licking his lips, Touga attempted to make conversation with the girl himself:

“Everyone's been looking for you.”

Curled up into a ball of misery, the girl did not even bother looking up at him. “Are you going to tell someone I'm in here?”

“No, I won't tell anyone.” From behind him, Kyouichi made some protesting sound, which he ignored. “I'm always on the girl's side . . . because I am a gentleman.” To that, his friend let out a pointed cough.

“Still, why have you been hiding in a place like this?”

“Because this is where I belong,” replied the girl, who then rambled on about how her parents had died, how there was one coffin left over, and how being alive now sickened her . . . Touga, for his part, used her detached, catatonic state as opportunity to toy with her well-layered mane, savoring its silken texture. “It's sickening . . . Why does everyone go on living knowing they'll end up dying anyway? I wonder why I never realized that until today. Eternity couldn't possibly exist, could it.”

“Eternity?” murmured Kyouichi, sounding strangely entranced.

“And so, it's all right now,” glassy-eyed, the girl went on in her flat, deadened voice. “I will never leave this coffin.”

“But someone will find you, eventually.”

“Then I'll just go hide in another coffin. I'll never see anyone, or come out into the sun again . . .” Her sentence trailed off right as Touga’s fingertips found their way to the back of her neck. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing that should alarm you,” replied Touga, his boyish voice having since darkened with husky tones; the Devil’s presence remained prominent in the background, though his increasingly lithe form now appeared more boy than man (so much less threatening than before). “Not with your heart safe in your coffin--” His hand then got forcibly yanked away by Kyouichi, whose presence he had mostly overlooked for the last little while.

“Touga! What are you doing?!” The boy winced from accidentally using his injured, bandaged hand; Touga blinked. Seeing the look of shocked disgust upon his friend’s face was almost enough to break the young redhead out of his eager, lust-induced trance; almost, but not quite. The misfortune-wrecked boy had been waiting for years just to have a chance to get his hands on this once fortunate girl; he would not chicken out now.

“The husk might be here, but the heart has since been gone.” Even as he spoke, the young boy could not help realize how he was sounding more and more like someone else . . . someone used to twisting words about . . . someone used to victimizing others. “She’s like an egg without the chick, a chrysalis without the butterfly . . . just an object, you know? We can do whatever we want to her, and she wouldn’t even care.” He was sounding like that someone . . . that someone who used to victimize him night after night, not very long ago, up until he offered up his life to this Devil now watching him from the side with smiling green eyes . . . that man; he was now sounding completely like that man who made him and his sister call him Papa.

Kyouichi, if anything, appeared downright horrified now. “What are you saying?! Touga! You’re--” His words ceased as the young redhead grabbed him by the crotch.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want to give it a try, Kyouichi,” purred Touga, shifting to the tone he so often used in his private interactions with his foster father; his hand, still small with age, fondled the other boy’s privates with his painfully learned, painfully taboo skills. Just what was with him tonight, that he would reveal this side of himself to stupid, innocent Kyouichi? “You and I, we both are dirty kids existing in this dirty world. This girl has now fallen from her heaven and into our hell.” The scent of roses was now amber-thick around the base, insect-like thing the boy could feel himself fast becoming. “Do you think a girl like her – so much cleaner and weaker than us – could survive this, if we don’t help her dirty up first?”

“You just said she wasn’t a girl, just a toy,” mumbled the red-faced ‘friend’ whom he was currently arousing by hand; Touga laughed.

“Haven’t you realized yet, Kyouichi? Kids like us are all toys – we exist to be used and played with by others.”

“Touga . . .”

“Let’s change her; remake her into one of us. It will be a change that lasts forever, unto eternity--”

*Creek . . . !*

At the sound, the boys turned to see the surprisingly strong girl now smoothly closing the coffin’s heavy lid over herself.

“Hey . . .” Even knowing how stupid his voice now sounded, Touga still could not help but exclaim out loud. “Hey! You--”

“Don’t lump me in with the likes of you,” said the girl, heartless (if also heatless) in her current despair. “Leave me alone already.”

“I’m not done with you yet!”

“Goodnight.”

And the lid closed completely, boxing her in and keeping them out.

Not once did she even bother looking at him.

“You . . . bitch!” High on a rage fueled by self-directed shame, Touga started kicking the coffin brutishly to resounding effects. “Stay inside till you rot for all I care!”

“S-Stop it,” begged Kyouichi, desperately trying to pull him back. “TOUGA! What’s with you tonight?!” Throwing a fit – like he had never once allowed himself to since being sold to the dangerous Kiryuu Households – the boy refused to be calmed.

“Didn’t her loving parents just died on her?! Isn’t she about to get sent off to some uncaring relatives or foster home?! What makes her think she’s better than us, that she can just shut me out, a-and--”

‘Good job.’

Without him noticing, the Devil has since moved closer; slim elbows perched upon the coffin’s lid, the entity currently had the form of a dark-skinned, white-haired teenage boy – one whose ethereal beauty and regal bearing made Touga feel ugly and crass in comparison.

‘You’ve done beautifully driving the little princess further into her coffin, little witch,’ said the Devil, smiling at him darkly, knowingly. ’I, her prince, will be taking over now.’

“You . . .” Whatever else Touga was about to say got silenced by the light, shooing wave from a dark, fine-boned hand.

‘Goodnight.’

He watched on, wide-eyed, as the Devil then leaned his slender built over the rose-filled coffin with the lightness of a willow adrift, and brushed his lips against the lid’s rose motif in a darkly intimate whisper:

‘Little golden goose bearing up alone under grief, allow me to show you a reason to lay for me my golden egg . . .’

***

It was only after he had already exited the nave (on unsteady, wavering steps) that Touga could finally start reflecting upon what had just happened back there.

It was the Devil; it had to be him. His mind had gotten strange the moment he first laid eyes upon the ominous entity, to the point that he could no longer clearly distinguish between fantasy and reality. Yes, that had to be why all his inhibitions would just vanish, rendering him a tactless, restraint-lacking fool in front of the very girl he had so wanted to . . . wanted to . . .

. . . possess.

To make this once brilliant girl his, to the point of marking her with his essence, sullying her with his filth – all to drag her down to his base level and make her his to own.

The Devil had simply mined out what was already there inside his dark heart, exploiting it to serve his own purpose; he was the one who truly did see the girl as a mere thing, which was why he could do what it took to seize her everything.

Impressive.

Had he this kind of cunning – this kind of power – then surely, even a boy toy like himself could take charge of his own life, maybe turn it around into a better direction. The Kiryuus would have no power over he and his sister . . . no, he could maybe even go after them for payback, and make the sinful adults reimburse them for all the hurt and pain they’ve caused--

“Wait!” Kyouichi’s tremor-marred voice came from behind. “Don't you think she might do something stupid if we leave her like that?”

Right, kid could not see the Devil there after all.

“Touga . . .”

“Then, why don't you show her something eternal?” asked Touga – impatient with the other boy’s pestering – before stepping past the church gates and out. Vaguely, he noticed a sound akin to a length of fabric (a handkerchief? a bandage?) snapping lose; preoccupied with what he then deemed to be more important thoughts, he paid it no heed.

Nor did he care that Kyouichi had not followed him from behind like usual.

Soon, they would all be boarding at an Academy that was really the Devil’s playground; surely, the Devil would await him there. Now, how should he best offer himself up to the cunning, charismatic demi-god (something this powerful deserved to be called god) so as to make a better impression? Should he play it smart, hoping the Devil would find him a worthy apprentice? Or, should he play it cute, hoping the Devil would find him a comely bedmate? Or, maybe he should . . .

Leaving the tandem bike behind (was he leaving it to the other boy? or did he simply tired of it?), the young, budding witch walked on in the cold drizzle, alone under a starless night that enveloped his slight frame as a dark, infinitely vast cloak.

***

Time: 10 years post-revolutionPlace: Chida Mansion

“So that’s what really happened back then, huh?”

Within the darkness they remained, the three of them - all victims, all broken.

“Using you as tool to drive me further into my shell, then showing up himself to play the prince . . . how like him.” Facing away from the other two, Utena’s voice came flat and dead. “And of course she’s in on all of this too . . .”

“Enough.” Head down, long hair unbound, Saionji growled at Touga from between gritted teeth. “I don’t know why you’re using this place’s magic to set up all these projections, but why are you making us see all this? What’s past is past: we don’t need to look back on any of it . . . why would anyone even want to?”

“Past.” Glassy-eyed, Touga stared out into space, into nothing. “A past wound, left untreated, will only fester with time.” Slowly raising a hand, he then touched it to the ‘W’ branding over his pale face. “If the rot underneath isn’t completely cut out, the wound will never heal.”

End Part Fifteen

To TheOnlyFlorence:

Yep, I am going by the Japanese Schooling system when it comes to junior/senior high.

WARNING: Parts of this work contain depictions of transphobia, controversial shoujo fantasy trans situation that in no way reflects real life trans people, and misogynic magic attack leading to forced masculinization. This particular chapter also contains non-graphic depiction of child on child sexuality, so be warned.

Part Sixteen: Victims of Fate VI (BETA-ed by the wonderful TheOnlyFlorence, who insisted on helping with this part even while recovering from illness)

Notes: Many thanks to Numbersixfan and The Tygre for giving this story such great support at TvTropes! You guys, along with those many reviewers from across the various archives and forums, are what make this effort epic totally worthwhile! And RedRouge, thanks for the kudos at AO3! Last but not least, I’d also like to thank James Songbird for reviewing each and every prior part at ff.net: your brisk, psychedelic comments always manage to brighten up my day

Time: 10 years post-revolutionPlace: Sunshine City Aquarium

Under eerie skies, surrounded by invisible people and phantom cars, the fight had since gone underway.

“Vanish!

“Fade away!

“Melt away!

“Just die already!”

Slipping nimbly past the wide, wild arcs of Keiko’s multiple swords in vast, vibrant flutters of crimson fabrics, Anthy moved as a red flag around a raging bull, dodging the opponent’s attacks while clouding the latter’s senses and blinding her eyes

“Lucky are those who can die,” said the Witch, effortlessly keeping her delicate figure hovering but mere inches away from the rapidly slicing swords; her monkey mouse familiar, on the other hand, visibly struggled to hang on to her shoulder. “But I’m not one of them, nor is my brother.” A flipping motion sent the edges of her voluminous dress belting across Keiko’s face, sending the woman stumbling gracelessly backwards. “Sonoda-san, you, who’ve gone so far as to bear these hate-filled swords for him, surely you must know that I am beyond--”

“I know!” Regaining her footing, Keiko again charged at Anthy with renewed vigor. “You’re just like her, monopolizing your brother’s love even though you’re only the sister! Warding off all other women like they are insignificant pests . . . a freak like you . . . a freak like yoooou--” This time, the Witch’s deftly extended foot – one concealed from view under the rippling dress – tripped her up, sending the sword-bearing pawn sprawling face first onto the floor. Refusing to stay down, she struggled to push herself back up on wobbling limbs. “You can’t keep me from Akio-sama: I’ve gotten close to him since you’ve strayed away!” Her wide-eyed gaze upon Himemiya – poised and ladylike even in battle – burned with both desperation and malice. “Akio-sama was the one to change my life; yes . . . ever since that time . . .”

***

Time: 6 years pre-revolutionPlace: Outskirts of Kiryuu Estate

Under the clear skies they stood, watching on as the mourners paid their respects to the deceased couple.

The surviving daughter could be seen standing strong and radiant under the sun. There was a piercing, determined spark burning within her eyes . . . a spark that made her seem completely different from the despairing orphan he remembered from last night.

Unable to stand the suspense any longer, he suppressed the feelings of awkwardness and turned towards the one beside him – something he once thought he knew, but apparently did not. “Did you do something to her, Touga?”

“No,” Kiryuu Touga – more pokerfaced than any eleven year old should be – kept his eyes on the orphaned girl. “Nothing.” Kyouichi’s fists started clenching.

“ . . . you went back, didn’t you?”

“I did not.”

“You did!” Now enraged, the green-haired boy pointed an accusing finger at the redhead. “You . . . did you show her that something eternal? Or did you . . .” Hesitating briefly, he still ended up voicing his main concern out loud. “Did you actually went on ahead with what you were trying to do to her?!”

“And if I did . . . what’s it to you?”

Touga’s counter-question impacted him like a slap, such that Kyouichi actually stumbled backwards. At last the redhead glanced over, sneering down upon him from where he perched high upon his new, one-person bike

“Or, are you just mad that you didn’t get any?”

Stunned by a sharp, alien pain piecing right through his young heart, Kyouichi could only watch on dumbly as his once best friend rode off into the distance, leaving him behind with that same thoughtlessness he well-remembered from last night.

“ . . . what’s it . . . to me?”

Walking upon feet that no longer felt like his, the boy slowly followed the other along the bright, sunny path – one now ablaze with infernal flames that only his eyes could see.

***

Time: 10 years post-revolutionPlace: Sunshine City Aquarium

Riding Himemiya’s magical pink van – one that seized them while driving itself - the girls hung on to their seats for dear life as the vehicle performed a series of sharp skids and turns around the cluttered area, expertly dodging the many cars speeding hazardously towards it from all sides; a number of those had since aligned themselves all along the roof’s edge, effectively blocking the van from escape. Amazingly, the penguins still were casually going about their usual antics, with Number 1 watching a ‘bikini girls’ video on the car video player, Number 2 stuffing face with the snacks found in the compartment, Number 3 fiddling with a lipstick, and Esmeralda snuggling up on Number 1 from behind.

“Somehow, they all seem . . . alive,” noted Himari, managing to be observant even amidst the current havoc. “Aside from that one red convertible chasing us from behind, the rest are all black racecars with insect-like segments . . .” She squinted at the plate of one such vehicles . “ ‘STDNT-D13’ . . . ?” Beside them, Masako’s mouth gaped in alarm.

“Whatever they are, they are trying to run us doooo-wn!” The girls all screamed as the van got rammed from both sides by four black cars, forcing it to slow as the vehicles from behind started gaining on them.

“Must . . . crush . . . them . . .” rubbing her freshly-bumped nose, Masako slowly sat up from where she slammed face-first against the back of the front seat, seething. “That’s it! Esmeralda!” Barely detaching itself from Number 1, the black penguin produced a hail of daggers, which she then threw out of the opened window and at the red convertible . . . to null effect, as they all bounced uselessly off its tough exterior. The other girls winced, as the heiress herself clenched her fist in agitation. “Damn . . . if only I still got my slingshot . . . huh?”

A red laser beam could now be seen visibly trained upon the advancing red convertible’s front wheel, before a shot took it right out., sending the vehicle spiraling out of control and slamming against the surrounding black racecars into an explosive pile up . . . before the smoke cleared and charred humans were revealed where the crashed cars should be.

“Wha . . . ?”

Dumbfounded, the girls turned their heads to see a slender, sunglasses-wearing woman standing some distance away wielding a laser-aim projectilegun, with which she was shooting down a number of the vehicles – including those once cornering their van – with startling accuracy. Seemingly enraged, a number of the cars sped towards the woman as if to run her down; she, in turn, off-ed their tires with her shots, standing her ground as the damaged vehicles (some of which were visibly ‘humanizing’) skidded past her side and off the roof’s edge.

Ringo’s brows creased in puzzlement. “I think I’ve . . . seen her before; but when? Am I still missing some memories?”

“I recognize her,” Masako cut in, pensively. “Chida Tokiko, ex-wife of Akino Corps’ Founder Akino Toshishiro. I’ve seen her at one of my grandfather’s parties some years ago; but she hadn’t looked quite this young then . . .” The heiress’ sentence trailed off as she started to notice something. “She has Himemiya’s monkey mouse now perching on her shoulder, these witch-like women are likely allies.”

“W-Well,” Himari’s voice wavered nervously. “She’s standing right there calmly waiting for us, so I don’t think she’d be afraid of getting run over. There’re also those shadowy little boys lurking behind her who also looked . . . looked . . .”

“I don’t think they are shadowy so much as they’re pitch black . . .” Ringo trailed off at noticing Himari’s now widened, tear-brimmed eyes, trained upon the shadow-cloaked kids. “Himari-chan?”

“Nii-san . . . ?”

Masako’s choked whimper, also directed at the boys beside the woman, went completely over Ringo’s head at first, before she too started noticing something about them.

Surrounded by small, glittery fragments hovering eerily upon air, the little boys were not really shadow-cloaked due to lighting; rather, the entire expanse of their flesh was pitch blank as if absent from existence; only their hair, colored in reddish-brown and dark-blue, could be made out from their ‘silhouette-like’ features, upon which hung the identical elementary school soccer uniforms they currently wore.

While the reddish-brown-haired one looked only vaguely familiar to her, the blue-haired child appeared almost identical to him – only much younger, and without skin texture . . .

“Nii-chans . . .” In tears, Himari now had opened the van window, leaning out of it and crying out. “Nii-chans!”

Masako, too, was already bellowing out of from the other window on her side. “KANBA!!”

Clearly hearing them, the ‘shadowy’ little boys stepped hesitantly out from behind the gun-wielding woman still busily shooting down the remaining ‘cars’; the blue-haired one had that meekness to his stance that Ringo recognized to be distinctively ‘his’.

“Shou . . .” The exclamation tore its way out of the girl’s trembling mouth seemingly on its own, before she too scrambled towards the open window, and let out her ecstatic scream. “SHOUMA-KUN!!!”

Even faceless, Takakura Shouma and Kanba did appear visibly moved; flanking Chida Tokiko on either side, they reached their hands out towards the van, sending forth a swarm of glittery stuff – now visible as glass shards – darting their way.

Engulfed under sharp, fragmented shadows and lights, Ringo found the physical constraints of her surroundings rapidly losing definition. Her vision came to be filled by surreal pentagonal stars hovering adrift, and her hearing the sounds of whipping winds, roaring engine, and girls screaming; overwhelmed, she could only continue crying out that name of utmost importance to her, crying until her limited human senses inevitably got fried, leaving her out cold.

“It’s time, Hime-sama,” Azure blue eyes glinting, Captain-kun took a step up towards the screens, and tapped his fingertips against the buttons lining the console top. “Time for the main event to begin.”

***

“Sonoda-san, you should stop this now.”

Himemiya’s evenly voiced warning – coming right as the ‘van’ effectively fled with the Children of Fate – chilled Keiko’s heart with dread. Nonetheless, with her heated head currently swimming with the swords’ raging hate, she could not back down even if she tried.

“Like hell I will!” Straining, she drew forth more malevolent swords sheathed within her flesh, ready to slash out anew.

Her opponent – not a hair out of place even after so long into their deadly dance – eyed her with a mix of pity and disdain.

“A measly hundred is of no impact to me, but they will overwhelm you,” she said. “The longer you let the swords infest you, the harder it would be to retain your own individual will. Very soon, you will completely lose control of your own body; you won’t be able to stop fighting me – target of the swords’ primal hatred – even if you try.”

Keiko bared her teeth in rage and desperation. “I won’t stop--”

“I'm not one of my brother’s many pawns – I’m his equal,” stated her immensely powerful opponent. “No matter what he has been telling you, fighting me is far more dangerous than you think.”

“I goddamned know how dangerous you are!” snarled Keiko, raising her sword while multiple blades poked out all over her sparse figure, making her all the more insect-like in appearance. “But for Akio-sama, I--”

“No.” Himemiya cut her off in a now steely voice. “You’re thinking that you are capable of taking me on, being so special as to be ‘chosen’ by the Ends of the World.” Green eyes hardening, the dark-featured witch sleekly shifted into a dangerous-looking one-legged stance that vaguely resembled a depiction of the Kali goddess the woman once saw in a book. “But if you don't put up your swords now, you will find out just how terrifying fighting me can be.”

“I-I won't back down from a freak like you!” Forcing down her fearful uncertainties, Keiko again charged Himemiya, sword first. “Akio-sama gave me the honor of using this most powerful sword, so I definitely won’t lose--”

‘Sonoda-san, you're going to lose now.’

“. . . Akio-sama?” She almost lost her footing upon hearing the unexpected voice now sounding within her own troubled head; upfront, Himemiya had began executing a startlingly dynamic kata that sent red fabrics flaring flame-like about her sleek, shapely figure.

‘The likes of you can never defeat this sister of mine, so just let her defeat you.’

“I see,” Himemiya’s voice was cold as ice water, as she crouched backwards with the tautness of a bowstring. “It’s already too late to disentangle the Swords from your vessel. Then . . . I suppose I have no choice!”

Letting out what sounded like a lioness’ roar – her first less than ladylike action since their battle began – the Witch shot towards Keiko in a blur of rapid palm strikes that sent the latter’s many sword blades snapping. Fraught, the sword-bearing woman kept on drawing out more swords, but they all broke as brittle plastic under the Witch’s precise, brutal hand chops; she was quickly reduced to backing frantically from the Witch’s viciously effective bare-handed attack.

There was no way she could win against this, no matter what kind of sword she was wielding.

‘You’re weak; just let her kill you already.’

“A-Akio-sama?” The man’s cruel words – coupled with the painful strikes now raining down upon her body – drove her into hysteria; striking out blindly, uselessly, the woman screeched as if being showered under fiery sparks. “Akio-sama!!

“I’ve surrendered my everything to you!

“I'll defeat the Witch and grasp for you the Power of Dios!

“Why don't you understand me--”

Getting struck right across the mouth by Himemiya’s palm strike, Keiko ended up crumbling painfully backwards. Scrambling back on her feet, the bruised woman yelled on with blood streaking from the corners of her split lips.

“I-I’ve given you my everything!

“Even after knowing of your perverted relationship with your sister, I still offered you my innocence! How could you--”

‘Sonoda-san, think carefully.

‘Think back to that time, that place; that moment when you became mine.’

His words brought forth memories of that time and place: the end of term party at Ohtori, where she – out of the need to regain social prominence at school after her falling out with that Kiryuu bitch – joined some of the ‘cooler’ upperclassmen in trying out some illegal drug they had smuggled into the campus; she remembered throwing up, losing coherency, doing some embarrassing things amidst the laughter of others, before . . .

. . . before she found herself in the Acting Chairman’s Office, or rather, the bedroom in the office’s suite portion. Sprawled upon the rumpled sheets, leaning against the man’s bared, supple shoulder, she woke up to Ohtori Akio’s gentle smile, his soothing words; just like that, she was no longer just another nobody at school; she had become the Acting Chairman’s special little ‘flower’ – one whom the students and teachers at the academy all readily deferred to, who was thus given --

‘Before that; at the party from the night before, in the men’s room they led you into . . . at that time, at that place, who was actually there and who was not?’

The men’s . . . room?

Vivid images started cutting into her mind with an abrupt violence that traumatized her into near-madness: the upperclassmen – left powerful after the Student Council’s earlier collapse - were laughing as she threw up after trying the substance they gave her, laughing as they dragged her into the men’s room and hosed her down, such that her white dress turned indecently lucent with wetness, such that they now were groping her like she was just a mindless piece of meat, such that those three – Nanami’s pathetic henchmen who once stupidly offered her and Aiko and Yuuko love letters –also present, gawked lecherously at her body revealed . . .

‘To whom did you actually offer your innocence?’

“Suzuki . . . Yamada . . . Tanaka . . .” Keiko croaked out the words from between her bruised, bloodied split lips. “It's been . . . a long time.” Up front, a dark heart-ed flower was spreading out its vast red petals flauntingly, tauntingly at her . . . or was that just the fast approaching Himemiya as viewed through her tear-blurred vision? “Akio-sama, how many years has it been since I’ve willfully forgotten those sick, bottom-feeding insects, instead insisting that you were the one? Akio-sama . . .” she watched on as the Witch’s dark palm shot straight for her heart, “ . . . am I too just an insect to you?”

***

*Ring!*

Expecting the call, the Prince who drove in the dark picked up the car phone with a languid hand, and spoke coolly into it:

“Ah, Sonoda-san. I was thinking it was about time for you to call me.

“Yes. The one who took your virginity on that night was definitely not me.

“I exploited your willful delusion, and helped you to go on living through all these years: I even used your taste for playing with multiple blades to condition you into becoming a host for the Swords of Hate.

“The period where you hid the truth from you mind, not facing reality, was useful.

“However, that's all over now.”

Green eyes reptilian cold, he studied the one revealed on the car video screen – a bloodied, beaten woman ineffectually trying to ward off a hail of rapid, violent strikes coming from a dark-skinned, red-dressed person off screen.

The woman’s harrowing, tear-rimmed eyes were staring out of the video screen and at him; he gave her a civil, perfunctory smile.

“Sonoda-san, your final purpose in life is to stain my sister’s hands with your lifeblood.

“Your violent death is to be taped then sent to the various medias – the Swords will not show, of course; I already have the right people in place already to stir up the public’s outrage.

“Having killed you, my sister will again be labeled a witch by the ravenous, judging world – this should hamper her further attempts to continue undermining the human-side of Ohtori’s might, through monetary means or otherwise.

“Most importantly, with you being an old schoolmate of Tenjou Utena, your timely demise will shatter what’s left of their already shaken relationship, making them all the weaker before our the fateful battle soon to come.

He terminated the call, watching as a deceptively delicate-seeming dark palm rammed its way through the woman’s scrawny chest, crumbling her with chilling brutality. Cold green eyes softening with something indefinite, the Prince turned off the car video, and refocused on the dark path ahead.

//“What an evil prince,”// commented the witch/carriage currently carrying him forward; his eyes hardened anew.

“I’m not the one who’s evil – it’s this World, and the way it works.”

//“You’re the one who chose this path, knowing the whole of the world.”//

“Knowing the whole of me, you have chosen to remain by my side, up to this very day.”

//“So I have.”//

“I do wonder the reason behind this decision of yours.”

//“So you do.”//

“For far too long, I’ve held back my full ruthlessness for the Witch who used to be my sister: appeasing her with half-hearted nobility, going after the power with half-hearted effort; no more. This time, I’m giving my all to take back what’s rightfully mine; I’ll right the World’s wrongs, even if it means destroying all those in it . . . and her with them.”

//“Akio-san . . .”//

“Sharp turns ahead, Hoshimi-chan; speed up or fall.”

Heeding his command, the Prince’s vehicle sped up to spiral through a looping set of inversions, parts of which now suddenly illuminated by spotlights spearing up from the dark depths below. On and on they rode, diving past what appeared to be stages, lighting equipments, and sectioned seating areas, going

“ ‘We are the chick, and the world our egg.’ Revolutionarily Intelligent Idol Comes Up With Literature-Inspired Concept For Album Promotion Concert.

“Album Review: ‘Song of the Fallen Kingdom’ – Cries from the Ends of the World’

“What on Earth?” Looking up from the news search page showing a long listing of Seen-related entertainment headlines, Nanami’s brows creased in puzzlement. “Why is Seen’s promotion team using Ohtori’s motifs to promote his upcoming concert?” Gathered around the same laptop in an array of tense, elongated frames, those others from the group all appeared to be mulling this over their heads themselves.

“This Seen guy is really Kazami Tatsuya-san,” commented Tsuwabuki, scratching his chin. “That, plus what Shinohara-san had mentioned before . . .” The blonde woman blinked at what he said.

“Who’s Kazami Tats--” and she jolted at remembering this obscure name from her youth. “You mean that guy?” She carefully re-examined Seen’s many photos –none of which showed much resemblance to the plain boy from her memories. “No way . . .” The prep looked just as baffled as her.

“Miki-sempai thinks that person’s current appearance is the result of cosmetic surgeries. Earlier on, Shinohara-san said Kazami-san is somehow connected to the Chairman.”

“Himemiya basically told me that her brother now controls Tatsuya, or something,” murmured Wakaba, downcast and disconcerted. “I don’t understand any of it . . . Saionji-sempai probably knows more than I do.”

“Saionji won’t be much help from where he’s caught up in that angsty threesome upstairs,” commented Kozue. Miki coughed; she glared. “But yeah, that’s Kazami Tatsuya alright, looking so fine after the many medically unsafe procedures the agency had put him through. Talk about someone literally breaking a leg – make that two – to make it in the biz.” She seemed amused by the looks she got from those others gathered. “What? The guy and I were once managed by that same agent.” She then gave her twin – already paling in the face - a knowing, provoking look. “The one Father introduced us to, I mean. You remember him, don’t you, Miki? Himemiya certainly seems aware of at least my . . . connection toward the guy--”

“Enough from you!” Miki’s snarl came punctuated by his slamming a fist against the tabletop to resounding effects. “It’s been one jab after another from you since we got here! Why do you persist on embarrassing the both of us in front of everyone?!” Standing up with such violence that his chair toppled over, the livid young man glared across the table and at his twin. “Yes! So Father was really a secondhand fame seeker forever pushing us into the Industry’s spotlight! Yes, he pushed us to debut as a music duo even when you weren’t emotionally ready! Even when I wanted to focus on academics! Even when anyone with eyes can see that so-called agent is a sick, pedophilic crack addict! And yes, of course I goddamned know that he was screwing you and getting you hooked on drugs! You can’t blame me for not being able to protect you – I was thirteen! Thirteen! He would’ve done the same to me too, had I not backed off to protect myself! And you, you were already sleeping around anyway . . .” His voice wavered amidst the sharp gasps of his peers; his twin, appearing unsurprised by his hurtful words, merely stared straight back at him. Apparently already too far gone to stop, the paling man continued uttering out the rest of his innermost thoughts. “Were the games not a complete sham, had I gotten that power . . .” his wide, harrowing eyes clouded over with murky shades, “ . . .had I that power . . .”

Somberly resigned - completely unlike the high-energy shrew she was moments ago - Kozue let out a soft, broken laugh. “I’ve been goading you on for all these years, just to hear that come out of your mouth. Now, I finally can stop deluding myself into thinking you could be any better than the phony, cowardly wimp you really are.” Miki got red in the face.

“You--” he choked at being stared in the eye by his sister’s cool gaze.

“Back then, had I been the one sick, with you being the one too scared to play alone, I would’ve fought my way out of bed and onto that stage. For you, I pushed your pervy music teacher down a flight of stairs to warn him off you – I was also only thirteen back then. Juri-sempai, you still remember that, don’t you?” Obviously unwilling to cast stones at her old friend, yet also unable to find anything with which to support him, the beautiful model opted to face away; Kozue balled her fists. “Even for those parentless bird chicks that reminded us of ourselves, I’d climb outside the window, knowing I’d fall. You . . . when have you ever risked yourself for my sake?” Her voice started to crack at the edges. “For both our sake?”

“That’s . . . not fair!” protested Miki, almost hysterical by now. “I’ve taken care of you for these may years! Mother was never around to begin with, and Father completely retreated after our failed debut except to pay for stuff! If it wasn’t for me--”

“If it wasn’t for you stringing me on, I could’ve left you a long time ago.”

“Kozue . . . !”

“You were indeed brilliant as a kid, Miki,” Kozue’s rasped, weary voice now was tinted with dark mirth. “You knew even at twelve that I was sleeping around only to get at you; that I was hoping you’d either push me away for good, or maybe finally get the resolve to . . . admit to . . .” her voice dropped as to be almost inaudible, “. . . loving me.”

At her blunt reveal, Miki’s red face paled amidst the silence of their peers; Nanami might have made a small sound, but everyone’s attention remained focused upon the siblings.

“You . . .” the blue-haired man’s lips moved as that of a fish out of water, “you FOOL--”

“You knew,” Kozue cut him right off, “and you did neither. I waited and waited, and you gave me no answer. Of course I know it wasn’t gonna be easy for you to admit it, even though we’re twins,” she chuckled then, as if at a remembered joke, “or, in your way of thinking, because we’re twins. But you won’t just let me leave you either: tying me down with childish things like milkshakes, goodnight kisses, and that damned song; making me feel like I’ve got reason to stay. Yet . . . no, you also flat-out refused to go any further beyond the teasing bits. After all, the good son won’t let himself do nothing that others disapprove of, especially if it means bringing shame to our so-called parents – not even after they both left us to rot.” Walking around the table, she started advancing upon her wide-eyed brother, who started backing away. “That night, when you kissed me goodnight like usual, pretending you didn’t just barge in on me getting drug-raped by the pervy agent earlier in the day, I told myself I had to leave you, or I’d go insane.” Having driven him into a corner, she reached forth her hands towards the trembling man, still looking like her spitting image even as an adult. “But you . . . you then grabbed onto me, saying nothing and just . . . trembled; and I . . . I let myself stay in your arms.” She watched, with cloudy blue eyes, her brother jolting away from her touch. “And it went on just like that, with me getting high, getting screwed, and you saying nothing through it all. Weeks passed, months, years, I stayed, and this is what we’ve become.” At her brother’s visibly growing revulsion, an ironic smirk quirked the broken girl’s red lips. “Don’t you worry, I’ll stop bothering you . . . I’ll just plain stop bothering with you starting now. You stay on and help your Himemiya-sempai for the Power or her ass – you’re probably after both – I’m done.” Turning on her heel, she then started walking away under everyone’s wide-eyed gazes.

“Leave?” asked Miki, appearing more bewildered than spiteful – though he likely was feeling both. “Where would you go? Once you leave this place and its magic, you’d again be reliant on your drugs. What can you do on your own like that?”

“Animals in the wild will either live or die,” replied Kozue, raspy voice listless as she stepped up and towards the living room’s exit. “I’m the same.”

“Don’t go, Kaoru-san,” pleaded the raven-haired woman, her voice soft as the delicate steps she took flitting up towards Kozue. “We’ve all fought the Ohtori Chairman earlier on – none of us would be safe on our own out there.” Stopping beside the younger woman – who now had her head lowered – the older woman continued on with her gentle persuasion. “The Takakura boys haven’t returned yet . . . you want to support them till the end, don’t you?” Kozue, eyes hidden under thick fringe, remained tight-lipped and expressionless.

A moment of tense, uncomfortable silence ensued, during which the gathered Duelists all appeared submerged under heavy thoughts; finally, Nanami let out a deep, agitated sigh.

“Just how long are they gonna stay up there?” wondered the fidgety blonde. “We can’t do nothing until Tenjou is able get out of her . . . his angst trap!”

Just then, a beep from the laptop drew everyone’s attention back towards what they had been doing before. Tsuwabuki quickly went over for a look.

“It’s news alert for Sunshine City Aquarium!” he said, before pausing as his blue eyes came to widen in shock. “Wha . . .?” The others, now gathered around the boy and seeing what he saw, showed similar reactions.

Bokken raised, he waited for him to come out of the toilet partition with baited breath. This was certainly in conflict with every rule he had ever been taught by his kendo sensei; but, currently ruled by that heated rage boiling inside his head, the boy was beyond stopping.

A click, before the partition door got pushed open by his target’s fine-boned hand--

“What’s it to me?”

Even as the words left Kyouichi’s mouth, his bokken was already slamming down against the side of the other boy’s head, crumbling the latter in a flutter of long scarlet locks; seeing red, he pressed on with his savage attack.

“What’s it to me?!” Face flushed, the maddened boy kept on hammering repeated, merciless blows upon this once special someone whom he once gave his all to protect. “After I’ve spent years trying to save you from the Kiryuus? After I got screwed by their goons because of that? And now you ask me what’s it to me? Are you even human, Touga?!” A kick to the fallen boy’s frank sent the latter curling up on the floor in a trembling ball – not unlike that of an insect pupa when disturbed. A sound – shrill, airy, and short – could be heard coming from the beaten, fallen boy . . . it took Kyouichi a moment to recognize the sound to be that of hysterical giggles. “The hell’re you laughing at?!”

Lanky frame shaking as he chuckled, Touga tilted up his face to reveal an indolent, taunting grin.

“You still don’t see . . . you’re so stupid that you don’t even . . . !” Wheezing, the redheaded boy slowly got back up on his feet in a movement as unsteady as it was sinuous. “You really know how to hit where it hurts . . . though I suppose it’s more from upbringing than training.”

“Touga . . . !” Reeling from the unexpected jab, Kyouichi was left unprepared as Touga –rivaling him in physical prowesss in spite of his girlish appearance – darted forward to knock the bokken off his hand, pinning him against the partition’s wall. “YOU--” Whatever he was about to say got cut off by the other boy leaning forward and claiming his lips.

In a kiss.

The sensation was unlike anything the young boy had experienced before, to the point that his anger quickly drained off as he found himself indulging in its alien pleasantness. It took him a full minute to find the resolve to disengage himself from the other boy’s smothering lips; only then did he notice the hazy, malevolent glimmer from within the redhead’s hooded, smile-narrowed eyes.

Kyouichi now was at a loss. “Touga . . .”

“Your father . . . and mine; we hate them so much, but we’ve both still ended up becoming like them,” purred the redhead, slim arms still draped around his torso like vine tendrils. “Aren’t you happy with yourself for turning out just like your old man? I know I am.”

“Toug--” he tried to protest, but was stopped by a finger to his lips; the boy’s eyes widened at seeing the redhead deftly unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his thin, pale chest, yet to broaden with puberty.

“So serious . . . don’t be upset; here,” grabbing the green-haired boy’s trembling hand, the early-marred man-child moved it towards his own rose-pink nipple. “As your one and only best friend, let me give you what you’ve always wanted from me . . . Saionji.”

Somehow, dropping out of first name basis with Touga had hurt him more than anything he had ever been subjected to up till that moment –including his father’s abuse. Obviously enjoying his pain, the redhead’s smile sweetened as they tumbled together into the filthy, obscenity-covered toilet stall, with the door closing behind them with a rusty-sounding creak.

“Let’s get dirty together.”

***

Time: 10 years post-revolutionPlace: Chida Mansion

“If the rot underneath isn’t completely cut out, the wound will never heal.”

The space they occupied had since reverted into becoming a “normal” bath area – one that now matched the rest of the Victorian mansion in its immaculate furnishings. With only a bathrobe over his drenched nakedness, Touga glanced down upon Saionji – crouching at a corner with his head down – with hazy, lash-veiled eyes.

“That’s why, we have to--”

“You have to make us hurt like you do, just to therapy yourself into feeling better,” stated Utena, adjusting his backpack’s straps while stepping briskly past them. “Go to hell.” Depression since turned into anger at having to again face his(her) tragic childhood, the new Prince slammed open the bathroom door and walked right out.

“Where’re you going?” asked Touga, following him from behind with the ominous deftness of a second shadow. Determined to ignore the man, Utena remained tight-lipped as he stomped down the spiral staircase to boisterous-sounding effects. “Tenjou-kun . . . are you running away?” asked the man, persisting against his silence. “I too, once thought I could outrun the things that hurt me, but those things always caught up with me in the end.” The man’s airy voice came to thicken with darkness, his damnably undisputable words hammering at Utena’s raging, uncertain heart. “Where do you think you can run to this time? The enchantment blinding those siblings has since been broken. Unhindered, the Ends of the World will no doubt sense it the moment you’re to step out of this sanctuary; he now owns the whole of this world – there’ll be no seedy crack for you to hide in this time.” Teeth clenched, Utena had by now broken into a half-run towards the front door, all too aware of Touga still hot on his heels. “Out there, on your own, where do you think you can--”

“Utena-sama!”

It was Wakaba, exuding urgency as she hurried out of the living room and up towards him, with the others following from close behind.

“Utena-sama, there’s important news you need to know. You might want to sit down fir--” His childhood best friend yelped, startled as he pushed past her in his frantic haste to flee Touga’s pestering. Smoothly steadying the smaller female, the statuesque Juri now had a hand on his shoulder.

“Utena, stop for a moment--” The woman got cut off as he shrugged off her hand in one jerky, almost childish motion. “Utena!” The front doors were right in front of him now; heady with adrenaline, he fumbled brutishly with the lock in agitated desperation.

“Tenjou-sempai!” Miki’s frantic voice called out to him from behind; undeterred, Utena continued on with fumbling soundly with the doors. “Please just stop for a while and listen! Himemiya-sempai, she--”

“Tadaima.”

The familiar voice, coupled with the abrupt unlocking and opening of the heavy front doors, sent the wound up Utena jolting backwards and right into the gathered gang; he was certain that his heel was crushing down on someone’s toes (Touga’s most likely), though nobody could made a sound even had they tried.

What greeted them from beyond the doorframe was none other than Anthy, her shapely figure enveloped under what the Duelists easily recognized to be a vast, flowy variation of the Rose Bride dress. In her hand was another hand held, and that other hand belonged to a bloodied, comatose woman she was currently dragging up the front steps. The woman’s head, while hanging limply, revealed a bruised face that was distinctively recognizable as that of an older Sonoda Keiko – the last remaining living Duelist from their round of the game, though how alive she currently was appeared highly debatable, that with a huge, grotesque wound now gaping open her chest, right over where her heart should be. . .

Even while swarmed by the onslaught of traumatic visual details, Utena found himself helplessly focusing upon Anthy’s emerald green eyes: seemingly deadened with resignation at first glance, a closer look would reveal the darkly provoking things lurking beneath the vapid surface.

These were the same eyes he once saw on on thatnight, back when Anthy and her brother – to whom Utena had surrendered his (her) virginity despite the man being engaged – purposely revealed their incestuous relationship aiming to hurt him (her); they tainted her adolescence with shadows, they smashed her known world apart, all so they could get what they want out of him (her): their foolish, unwitting golden goose PAWN.

And now, after ten years, after the innumerable apologies she had given him since their reunion (which turned out to be no less painful than their parting), after the reveal of her being involved in his parent’s murderer, Anthy was again using that same damnably confrontational gaze on him, raising it like a deadly sword with which to run him through; again.

Then and now, the message the Bride gave her Victor remained one and the same:

‘Aren’t you scared? Having to finally face this real me you’ve willfully ignored all along, aren’t you scared?’

Last time, being a young girl-child still green to the true horrors of the world, Utena could only flee back into the false safety of his (her) room like the overwhelmed child he (she) was. This time; this time . . .

This time, he was no longer a child who could excuse his weakness with youth. This time, Anthy was (purposely) blocking the doorway - his only way out. This time, there would be no avoiding the confrontation against the very one who destroyed and remolded him both.

Letting out a dry, edgy chuckle (one that left the rest of the gang clearly unnerved), Utena then inhaled deeply, straightened his back, and stood his ground anticipating what was to come.

End Part Sixteen

Note To Florence:Your suggestion about having Keiko don another symbolic imagery is really cool. Using her name as inspiration is an interesting idea, and I considered it. However, I've spent passages in the previous chapter building her up as an insect - that with her stick thin appearance & all. In the end, I could only stick with the Troublesome Insect (like the title of her character episode) imagery for her in this part. But hey, your idea still may work for future parts, so thanks in advance!

The house's got a whole bunch of problems that needs fixing, so it could be a little while still before I continue working on Seinen.

That said, Seinen's spin-off aka Part 17: Gakuen Kaitou Sensei (http://forums.ohtori.nu/viewtopic.php?p … 95#p255695) is getting like no review at its thread throughout the 2 months I've been away . . . guess nobody here is that interested in the Guidance Counselor after all . . .

The stark lack of interest in that Gakuen Kaitou Sensei spin-off is seriously making me consider aborting it. But . . . doing so will render all the hard work Florence had put in as beta-er wasted. What to do . . . ? (conflicted)

I know there's a seeming lapse between updates. I can assure everyone that it is only because I'm working hard on my first purely NGE fic (in 10 years, anyway) for an EVA writer I admire. Seinen, currently in its Brake Failure Arc (Link: http://forums.ohtori.nu/viewtopic.php?id=3618), is still being continued.

Then again, Seinen's priority could be higher than now, should there be more new reviews/comments about it either here or on FFML and AO3